The OneThousand and NinetyFifth Morning
by LadyLilyMalfoy
Summary: It is the morning of their third anniversary and Greg wakes up to a very pleasant surprise. Prompt: Fluff and Special Occasion.


A/N: I have started doing a monthly giveaway of Postal-Fics (see my tumblr for details - ladylilymalfoy904034) and this is the first one! Shipped to Delaware for Cxionbonan 3

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If Greg was to be perfectly honest with himself, he had expected this year's anniversary to go exactly the same way as last year's – he would wake up, cold and alone, slope into the kitchen to find a pot of lukewarm coffee and an apologetic note on the counter. The day would proceed in the same way as any other, although with an added note of distinct disappointment which he could never _quite_ shake, no matter how much he could rationalize Mycroft's behavior in his head. And he _knew_ it wasn't Mycroft's fault, that his partner would much rather stay in bed, drink champagne and eating toast all day rather than being bored to tears by the Foreign Dignitary of wherever and not getting home until stupid o'clock when they would both be too tired to do anything other than collapse onto the bed and cuddle. Not that Greg minded collapsing and cuddling, but he definitely preferred it as an aperitif rather than a main.

This year, however, on what was the third anniversary of their relationship – 'Only three years,' Greg marveled, whilst Mycroft was still getting over the shock of staying with somebody for _two_ years – Mycroft's alarm clock did _not_ go off at the ungodly hour of four AM, nor did Greg wake up cold and alone. In fact, when he did finally did rouse from his dreams it was to find his partner still snoring lightly in his arms, the crown of his head nestled securely beneath Greg's chin.

Turning his head just a fraction so as to not disturb the sleeping man pressed against his side, Greg took note of the pale sunlight poking through the crack in the drapes and, considering that there was no sign of the usual dawn chorus that likes to congregate outside their bedroom window between the hours of six and nine, calculated that it was most definitely way past the point where they _ought_ to have got up.

Turning back to press his lips to Mycroft's forehead – creased with dreams – in a sort of half-kiss, Greg fleetingly considered waking him…But the thought had barely time to form before it was discarded out of hand; there was not a single part of Mycroft's life which had not been carefully calculated, and Greg highly doubted that this was the first. He smiled to himself, softly running the pads of his fingers from the small of Mycroft's back to the nape of his neck, silently thanking him for his anniversary present.

Mycroft stirred slightly beneath his touch, and Greg could feel the beginnings of consciousness twitch through the other man's body like the faintest spark of electricity before the light comes on. The hand continued its journey upwards, combing through Mycroft's hair and settling just above his ear, thumb gently stroking the lobe as he eyelids flickered half-open.

Greg returned the sleepy smile he was given with a kiss and a murmured, "Morning, love."

Mycroft replied with a wide yawn, his whole body shivering with tension as he stretched out kinks and knots which always came from a long sleep. "Morning," he said on the exhale, snuggling back down against Greg. " 'Time is it?"

Greg glanced over at where is phone was lying on their bedside table and decided it was definitely beyond his reach. "No idea. Late."

Mycroft's lips brushed against the hollow of Greg's throat as they stretched into another yawn. "Good."

Greg gave a low, throaty chuckle which reverberated through both of them. "No national emergencies that need to be avoided, then? No warlords that need your immediate attention?"

"Nothing that can't be fixed with a cup of tea and a Father Ted box-set," Mycroft replied, turning his face upwards for a kiss, which Greg was only too happy to grant him. "There are far more important matters that need my attention today."

"Mmm that sounds nice," Greg mumbled into Mycroft's hair.

"Who says I was talking about you?" This earned Mycroft a vicious tickle in the ribs, the legs wrapped around his waist holding him fast until he begged for mercy.

"Yield!" Greg demanded.

Mycroft yielded, panting and grinning, eyes bright with energy. His eyes searched Greg's face as though for the first time, then – breathless and earnestly – "I love you."

Smoothing the hair away from Mycroft's face, Greg leaned in to place a tender kiss his partner's lips. "I love you too. Happy anniversary."


End file.
